


Beautiful Crazy

by HinnyBellarkeSwan



Series: The 100 Songfics [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Song Lyrics, Songfic, Title from a Country Song
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-09 08:11:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18634243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HinnyBellarkeSwan/pseuds/HinnyBellarkeSwan
Summary: They re-connect after six years and as they do, Country Heartthrob Bellamy Blake writes her a song. He can't help it.He falls for two Griffin women and, just maybe, they fall for him to.*Title from Luke Combs, Song Lyrics not mine*





	Beautiful Crazy

**Author's Note:**

> This song has been wrecking me, the idea floating around for multiple pairings, Bellarke won.

The first time he sees Clarke again, he freezes. Don’t ask him why because there is no answer aside from the fact that she’s Clarke and he had never really forgotten her.

The context is that he is twenty-six and hasn’t seen her in six years. He had to move when he was twenty, taking his sister away from the town they grew up in, the place their mother died because he couldn’t afford to live there anymore. 

Clarke Griffin, the daughter of a United States senator, was never supposed to be his best friend, but he supposes fate is tricky that way. She had everything he never had as a kid, and he had resented her for it, for about ten seconds, and then she opened her mouth. She told off the boy that was being a dick to her, and a dick to his baby sister, and well that took all the steam right out of his sails. 

After that, they just sort of fell into a friendship. By the time she was seventeen and he was having to bury his mother and relocate with his sister, he couldn’t imagine his life without her. She was this spitfire girl, bold and smart, sassy and beautiful and he was just the nerd with a guitar. 

He never even had a chance when it came to her, and in the six years between then and seeing her again, he dated, but none of them were Clarke. Gina was still a friend, Echo was a person he rarely liked to think about and the other one-night stands were just that. 

The fact that he was Bellamy Blake, country music’s newest heartthrob made it easy with the one-night stands. Gina had been the reason he was discovered, so he was glad she was still a friend, and Echo was the bad choice he made in the midst of all his angsty grief. 

Out of which, he produced a literal fuck ton of songs. But that is a story for later. Clarke, Clarke is the story for now. 

He was sitting in his label’s office, his bandmates sitting next to him, and then he sees the news headline on the tv behind some random executives head and he is so distracted he misses a solid three minutes of the meaningless small talk occurring all around him. 

Breaking! Senator Griffin Lands Deal with Russia! Trade to Re-Open! Is repeatedly flashing along the bottom of the screen, but what captures his attention after reading it is the picture. Its Clarke, there’s no denying it. Her blonde hair is gleaming, red streaks at the bottom of the new (to him anyway) short style and her blue eyes are sparkling. It's very clearly a paparazzi photo, she's following her mother out of a hotel cafe, dressed casually, but what really throws him off is the brunette girl trailing after her. 

Miller catches his distraction and his brow furrows. None of them, except for O, would know that he knew her. “Dude, Indra’s almost here and that’s got all you're attention?” He snaps into focus. Miller has a point, they have a contract to re-negotiate and he needs to be on his A-game. The fact that a bunch of chords just popped into his head will have to wait till later. 

Her day starts with a coffee and ends with a wine  
Takes forever to get ready so she's never on time for anything  
When she gets that come get me look in her eyes  
Well it kinda scares me the way that she drives me wild  
When she drives me wild

It turns out that later is much longer than he was hoping. Because they land the re-negotiating and he and the band are suddenly back in the studio all the time, recording all the other songs he had written, ones with lyrics. 

He, Miller, Murphy, and Brian were paired together by the label, his songs, their harmonies, and their musical skill made them a success that label seemed to want to continue to capitalize on. Farm Station had been born by virtual strangers but they were all close friends now. Miller was the other guitarist and vocalist, Murphy played the drums and Brian also provided vocals and was the band’s bassist. Bellamy himself did a little bit of all of it.

He played guitar, sang, wrote their songs, and kept the peace. All while trying to maintain a semblance of control over his life, and his sister, who at twenty-two was less rebellious than she had been, but still a handful (he wouldn’t want it any other way).

He and Clarke had lost touch, he lost himself to the grief and to trying to care for his sister in a new place. The move to small-town Tennessee from the outskirts of D.C. made for culture shock and a lot of stress. 

But apparently, that was about to not matter anymore. Because he was standing in the hallway at the label and there was Clarke. 

He froze, staring at her in surprise. A million things flashed through his mind, but all he could do was whisper her name, which great, she heard. 

For the first time in six years, her ice blue eyes land on him and he melts. Her grin is wide and shy all at once. “Hey, Bell.” And fuck if he doesn’t love that she used the nickname. “Princess.” Her own smile widens, and just like they always were, they are on the same page again. 

Then the brunette girl he had seen in the photo earlier that month appears out of Lincoln’s office. Lincoln was the bands' manager and publicist. He was also sure that one of these days he would be Bellamy’s brother-in-law, which he was still in active denial about his whole relationship with O so yeah. 

“Clarke, hi.” And there was the man himself, following the girl who threw her arms around Clarke. Clarke smiles at Lincoln briefly but her attention goes to the girl. “Ready Madi?” The girl nods, and then her eyes fall on him. 

“Holy crap you're Bellamy Blake.” Lincoln and Clarke both laugh, even as Clarke scolds her for her language, but he’s distracted by the fact that Clarke is so close after so long so he stands there awkwardly for a beat before chuckling, “yup, that's me.” And fuck, that was more awkward than staring like an idiot. 

“Guess you don’t need to keep your promise now Uncle Lincoln, I can ask myself.” His eyes flash between the girl and his manager, confused. Lincoln chuckles at him but introduces the girl. “Madi, this is Bellamy, Bellamy this is my, I guess you could say, niece, Madi.”

“You guess?” Its Clarke that laughs. “Her mother was a friend of his. Lincoln stayed in touch.” His eyes dart to her, and she's smiling at the younger girl and it all clicks. He had heard the rumor, that the senator had taken in a young foster kid for her image, that Clarke did all the work for her mom to reap all the benefits. 

“Clarke is the wicked cool sister I never knew I wanted so I deal with the senator.” He barks a laugh at the girl’s frank nature. Clarke is smirking, unashamedly proud, and god, he just wants to talk to her again. 

“So what did you want to ask me?” He figured he should be polite, not creepy. 

“Oh! Uh, I have this project for school, and I was wondering if you would help me with it?” He stares at her in surprise, so she starts to ramble. ‘Lincoln said you write you're own songs? I have to learn the guitar and put a poem to music and I suck at anything musically inclined. So does Clarke.” 

The blonde in question snorts on a laugh and he chuckles. “I remember.” The teen is grinning at him, but it's not as bright as Clarke’s smile at his words. The words to those chords floating in his head start to appear then, and the rest? Well, they come in the days, weeks and months to follow. 

Beautiful, crazy, she can't help but amaze me  
The way that she dances, ain't afraid to take chances  
And wears her heart on her sleeve  
Yeah, she's crazy but her crazy's beautiful to me  
The princess he remembers and the woman Clarke is now are so similar, yet also incredibly different. He learns that quickly, spending much of his limited downtime on skype with her and Madi. Ostensibly he is helping Madi with her eighth-grade music and English project but really, that devolves into him re-connecting with Clarke and bonding with the sassy teen, in whom he sees more remnants of the girl he remembered. 

The ease that had always existed between them was still present. And, a month and a half after they begin again, he feels almost like he never left. 

The album is done, they are almost done planning the press release for it, and the subsequent tour. It is about that which he is complaining to her today. “God Clarke, they want us to cover half of the UK in like a week and a half. A fucking week and a half. Oh shit, Madi isn’t there right?”

The blonde is shaking, trying to contain her laughter, charcoal on her nose. “No, she’s with mom and thoroughly unhappy about it. I had a work meeting earlier so I got to skip the press junket.” He grinned at that. Clarke had done what he always pictured her doing, living off her art. She began her own graphic design company and it was thriving.

“So Europe, can’t really complain Mr. hotshot musician.” He rolled his eyes. “I want to SEE Europe Clarke, more than just the event centers. I want to see Buckingham Palace, the Arc de Triomphe, and the Coliseum, not just fly over them.”   
She grins at him, “the Arc is beautiful, the Coliseum is always crowded and Buckingham is the most overrated of all of the Queen’s castles.” He stares at her, and after a solid minute, she cackles. “You were trying to decide if I had met the Queen right?”

He sputters, furthering her laughter, and that makes him chuckle to. She had him there, for a minute. “I wasn’t lying about the other stuff, and seriously, way cooler castles than Buckingham but no Bell, I haven’t met the Queen.”

He grins back, “well princess you never know.” She rolls her eyes at the nickname, but he catches the small smile and he melts. 

Even through the screen, charcoal on her nose, she’s the best thing he has ever seen, and when, forty minutes later, Madi slams the door open, huffing about Abby before seeing him and cheering his name, well his day just keeps getting better.

So he hasn’t actually seen her since her and the kid flew back to D.C., and maybe he missed them, sue him. He loved that she now had a sister she mothered, much like he fathered O, it was just another thing they had in common. He loved listening to her rant about Abby and her new husband, Marcus Kane, who Madi secretly thought was alright. 

He loved helping Madi learn how to play the guitar. She wasn’t hopeless, she was just rusty. She finally admitted, once, that her birth father had taught her before he had died when she was six. Her and Clarke had bonded over the death of a parent in a car accident, though poor Madi had lost both at once.

They choose the poem together, he and Madi, and when she chose The Phoenix and the Turtle one of Shakespeare’s poems, he grinned and told her she should have chosen one of the Catulus Sonnets he suggested, to which she scoffed because “they are in Latin Bell. I suck enough at singing as it is in English, let’s not throw Latin into the mix.” 

Clarke is in the background, stylus to her Ipad in her hand, but she had stopped working on whatever she was sketching, watching them instead, soft smile in place and more of those lyrics form in his mind. She meets his eyes, her smile growing the smallest bit, and he feels his own answer it, and he promises himself that he won’t lose her again. 

She makes plans for the weekend, can't wait to go out  
'Til she changes her mind, says, "let's stay on the couch and watch TV"  
And she falls asleep

Bellamy both hates and loves touring. He loves it because he gets to share his passion, his songs, his music, with thousands of people. He gets to do what he loves with his friends. He hates it because the whole process is exhausting. 

This time around, their third tour, their own huge tour, they are supposed to hit Europe, Canada and most of the United States. 

They do the west coast first, and even though Madi’s project is done now, they still Skype. She asks him to show her the beach, so he skype’s them one morning during his run along the beach. It’s the first time in a week they have been somewhere more than a day and San Diego is beautiful. 

Not as beautiful as the sight that answer’s his call. On the other end, Madi’s sleep rumpled hair and tired eyes are the first things he sees. The second? Clarke curled up behind her, blonde hair spread like a sunbeam over the navy pillowcase, sound asleep.

“Bell?” He winced, “sorry kid, didn’t mean to wake you.” She shrugs, “we had a thing. Abby. It was exhausting. She has the day off so we are bumming it.” He laughs quietly at that, his run long forgotten. “Well hey, here’s the beach.” He sweeps the phone camera up and down the coast, hearing her squeal and the grin gets bigger. 

“Madi?” The sleepy voice is the softest, sweetest thing he’s heard in ages. “Sorry Clarke. Look! Bell’s at the ocean!” He turns the camera back to him, in time to see her struggle to sit up, only for Madi to place her head in Clarke’s lap, angling the camera so he can see them both. 

“Morning Princess.” She smiles at him, warm and tired, and he wishes he was on the other side of the country, not for the first time in the six months since they had re-connected. “Hey, Bell. The ocean looks pretty today.” 

He nods, but before they can keep talking his security guard manifests at his elbow. His signal that his free time is up. He sighs, but they both smile at him and make him promise to Skype them after the show, even if it will be like, tomorrow, where they are. 

He does. 

It goes on like that. From the West Coast a few of the western states around it, they fly to Hawaii and then begin the four-night Canadian stretch of the tour. 

The girls give him, and the guys, crap about being jet-lagged and then praise them for how well they hide it. 

It is, he thinks, fairly obvious how he feels about them both, but the band loves Clarke and Madi all on their own. Octavia, who joins them, for stretches of the tour when she wants to, loves catching up with Clarke and thinks Madi is fascinating. 

Considering she is in school to become a counselor he thinks that her story is part of the fascination until he catches them discussing him. “Yeah, Bell is great! The teacher loved it, even if he didn’t believe that Bellamy Blake helped me create it. We totally aced it, for both classes.”

O laughed, “god, he used to sing me to sleep, making up all these dumb little songs, guess we know where he got his start!” They both devolve into laughter and he walks away with a wide grin and a light heart. 

He loves Madi as much as he loves... Well, he’s not going there, not yet. 

Miller is the first to call him out on what’s really going on. He was, after all, in a happy relationship with Bryan, had been longer than Farm Station had been a thing. 

“So you are really gone for the Griffin girls. Both of them, like a lot.” It’s the most Miller has said in a while, so between the staring Bellamy groans but he doesn’t deny it. They go no further than that, Miller just huffs a laugh, smirks and then tells him they are ready for him at sound check. 

Murphy takes to following him around sniggering about the princess under his breath, but Bellamy ignores him, like always. 

And then Clarke calls him in a panic. “Bell! She’s gone! We can’t find her. Oh god, what if…” She’s rambling, even as the call connects, her voice all kinds of panicked. He gains understanding and joins her in that panic fast. 

“Shit, what do you mean by gone? Where was she?” 

Clarke sighs, he hears her trying to calm herself down. “She was supposed to meet me at the theater, we were going to see Cats so we were going to reserve tickets. She never showed. She apparently left school with her friend Jordan and no one can find them and god Bell!”

He aches to gather her into his arms, but he can’t. Then his phone vibrates. It’s Madi. He rushes to tell Clarke before he hangs up to answer the call. 

“Bell?” He can tell instantly that she knows what's going on and she feels bad but also upset. “Madi! Thank god! Where are you?” 

He himself is somewhere in Manitoba, their last stop in Canada before flying to Nashville for CMAfest. 

“I’m on the train back.” His eyes fall closed. “Train?” She sighs. “It was the anniversary of Jordan’s mom’s death. We went to her grave. My phone died, and I forgot I was supposed to meet Clarke, and oh god, how mad is she about the show?”

He snorts, “I don’t think she cares about the show kid, she’s freaking out.” Madi sucks in a breath and he can hear the tremor in her voice. “I’m sorry Bell. I just… wanted to be a good friend and I forgot to charge my phone and…” he cut her off. 

“I’m just glad you're okay.” An assistant tapped his shoulder, making him sigh. “I gotta go kid. Call Clarke okay?”

Her answer makes the stress of the last twenty minutes worth it. “Okay Bell, love you. Have a good show.” 

He adores that girl, and fuck if he doesn’t love her sister. He feels a sudden determination to put the song he’s been writing for her in his head down on paper. 

It’s progress anyway. 

 

Beautiful, crazy, she can't help but amaze me  
The way that she dances, ain't afraid to take chances  
And wears her heart on her sleeve  
Yeah, she's crazy but her crazy's beautiful to me

When, after nearly four months of being on tour, they make it to the East Coast, he is suddenly in their time zone again and it's great. 

Madi is back in school, a freshman in high school, which stresses Clarke out. She calls him all the time worrying about everything and he guides her through it the best that he can, based on O. 

Today, however she is calling to whine about her mother. “A gala Bell. I hate going to those! I don’t even schmooze my own clients, and she wants me to charm politicians. Ha! More like she wants me there to play matchmaker and Wells isn't going. He and Raven are going to see Panic! At the Disco. Fuck them, I have to go get hit on by old men and I can’t even make it a drinking game with my friends.”

He’s honestly trying so hard not to laugh by now, and she figures it out. “Shut up! Not everyone is a famous rockstar!”

He snorts, “not a rockstar princess, but thanks for the comparison.” He tries not to let the jealousy leak into his voice at the thought of her mom setting her up. God he would kill to be able to take this woman on a date. 

“Ugh, maybe I can take Madi, then we can be miserable together. She will save me from the set-up I can feel mom planning and we can get Dairy Queen and youtube you after.” He chokes on the smoothie he was drinking, phone slipping away from his ear. 

“You youtube me?” 

She giggles. ‘Oh yeah. And we follow you're fan sites. The band’s to. It’s great!” He struggles to regain the ability to breathe, choking out a ‘why.’ Her giggling persists as she gives the answer. “The comments Bell! And because you guys are talented, but really, the comments are a gold mine!”

He chuckles as his mind settles, he misses the hitch in her voice, his own brain wondering what she thinks of the legions of fans who talk about his body, his hotness. He forces himself to think about the setlist instead, that’s far safer. 

Then an idea hits him. “Hey, we hit D.C. soon. Do you think the kid would like backstage access? O will be there, her conference is there.” She pauses, “only Madi?” 

He chuckles, “Aww, miss me, princess?” She huffs, faking being affronted, and then her voice goes soft. “I do.” 

The answer is both amazing and makes his situation all that much harder. He misses her to though, an hearing that she feels the same is nice. 

“Well then, clear you're calendar princess. We hit D.C. in a week and we get three days there. Two sold out shows. I’ll get you the passes.”

Suddenly he wills the week to go faster, now that he knows he will see her, both of them, again he is more than ready to be in D.C.

By the time the bus pulls up at the arena, he is grumpy from exhaustion but thrilled. Tonight he will see them. It’s a Friday, which means Madi can come to both shows, and he, and the whole band really, are beyond stoked. 

He hears laughter before he is off the bus, Miller’s chuckle, Murphy’s huff of sarcastic laughter, and he wonders if O is already here waiting. 

She is, but next to her is Clarke and Madi. 

He freezes on the last step of the bus and the three shout, “surprise!” It brings a grin to his face, exhaustion fading. He catches his sister round the waist in a big hug, and then Madi is there, chattering in his ear with her arms around his neck. 

Over her head, he watches Clarke’s fond expression, grinning when it turns to a shy smile when she meets his eyes. Madi lets him go and he heads for her, no longer caring about anything but getting to hold her. 

His arms slip around her waist, hers sling around his neck and he lifts her slightly, breathing her in. “Hi, Bell.” It's a small, quiet whisper, one that fucks with his heart. “Hey princess.” He says into her hair, placing a kiss to her head, he can’t help that either, and then she’s pulling back, blue eyes dancing as they meet his. 

The song he wrote her is burning a hole in his brain, the sheet music burning a hole in his bag, and he wonders, should he play it for her? Should he risk this? 

She's unpredictable, unforgettable  
It's unusual, unbelievable  
How I'm such a fool, yeah I'm such a fool for her

She refuses to let him out of her sight. Madi follows an exuberant Octavia around, eyes wide at the behind the scenes action she is watching. Clarke loops her arm through his and sticks to his side. 

“She’s been talking about this for days. I’m honestly surprised you didn’t know. She was so obvious yesterday when you skyped her.” He chuckles. “I figured the senator would flip if you let her skip class.” She grins at him, “she’s only missing two classes and mom will get over it. She earned this.”

His grin is probably so obvious, but he can’t control himself. They had a week in Nashville before she and Madi came back to D.C. when they first re-connected. Since then it’s been Skype, phone calls and endless texts that have connected them, and god has he missed being here in person. 

She follows him into his dressing room, perching herself on the counter, looking around in avid curiosity. He tugs the end of her slowly growing hair. “The red’s gone.” 

She smiles, brittle and sarcastic, “it wasn’t gala appropriate.” He snorts. “Fuck that.” Her answering grin is huge, revealing all her white teeth. She repeats his sentiment, laughing. “DQ with Madi made it worth it.” 

Without thinking he begins to shuck the shirt and hoodie he had been wearing on the bus. “Let me guess, cookie dough blizzard?” He looks up, and Clarke’s blushing. Her eyes dart between his face and his chest and he feels inordinately proud all of a sudden. 

Her eyes are slightly darker when they meet his own again and his heart stutters. “What?” 

“Huh?”

That makes them both laugh, even as he drifts into her space. Slotting into the gap between her knees from where she’s perched on the counter. One pale hand lifts, but before it can make contact an assistant is knocking and calling him to sound check. 

Disappointment floods his system as he has to back away, but his mood is buoyed when he reads the same emotion in her eyes. 

That seals it. He’s doing it. And, if he makes a fool of himself, if he’s reading her wrong, well he will deal with that if and when it comes down to it. 

He’s playing the song he wrote her, whether it’s tonight or tomorrow, it’s happening. 

At sound check, he forces himself to tell the techs that he will need his six-string at the end of their encore set. That he wants to surprise the audience with a new song, just him. 

No one blinks an eye, the band just shrugs and the tech accepts the request. 

So he gets ready for the show, going through the motions, distracted by the thoughts in his head. 

He tugs on the Levi’s, settles the white tee-shirt over his head, and then ruffles his curls. He slides his black boots on and he’s ready. He downs water, meets the guys and they go through their pre-game ritual. He does it all on auto-pilot. 

Then he steps out onto the stage, after Clarke and Madi both place a kiss to his cheek for luck, and the fog lifts. Everything is clear as a bell like it always is when he hits the stage. 

It was show time. 

Beautiful, crazy, she can't help but amaze me  
The way that she dances, ain't afraid to take chances  
And wears her heart on her sleeve  
Yeah, she's crazy, she's crazy, she's crazy  
But her crazy's beautiful to me

He watches her face, out of the corner of his eye, as he remains on stage. He speaks into the mic. “D.C. you guys have been awesome! So awesome in fact, that I am going to let you all hear a new song!” The audience cheers, his eyes dart to her, where a smile is playing over her face. Madi’s hands are clutched under her chin in excitement and he can’t help what he says next. 

The crew is clearing the stage, bringing him a stool and his guitar but he misses most of it, speaking to her, and the crowd, but mostly her. 

“I started working on this song a year and a half ago. The chords came first. The lyrics have followed in the last few months.” He doesn’t say her name, but he watches her face. Her head is tilted in curiosity, and he takes a deep breath, beginning to play. 

As he does, he loses himself in it. The words bring to mind the things they always do. Memories from their childhood, but really, memories with Madi and the conversations they have had since they found each other again. 

He poured his love for Clarke Griffin into the words, catching the grin on his sister’s face, the beaming smile of Madi’s and then Clarke is all he can see. The audience had faded, and he sings it to her, for her. His crazy beautiful blonde hurricane. 

When it ends and the audiences erupts into applause, he thanks them before turning to go off stage. She meets him at the edge of the curtain, flinging her arms around his neck, her nose buried itself in his collarbone. His arms found their place around her hips and he held her close.

“I love you to Bell.” She lifted her head, put her mouth at his ear so he could hear and damn if that doesn’t make him smile. 

“I love you to Clarke.” Madi is at their side so he tugs her in to, whispering his love for the teen into her hair as well. It makes Clarke hold on all that much more tightly, and then Octavia crashes into them as well, and surrounded by his girls, Bellamy Blake is a content man. 

 

Her crazy's beautiful to me

He and Clarke make it work. He moves to New York after she moves the business there when Madi starts at NYU. Before that, they do long distance, both busy growing their careers. 

Beautiful Crazy wins him ACM and CMA awards. Billboard, Tony, Oscar and Grammy awards follow. Nothing means as much to him as the smile on Clarke’s face when he plays it. The way she sways along, eyes sparkling with love. 

He gets Madi’s help when, after two years of dating, he plans to propose. When she says yes, and after he slides the ring Madi and he chose, she asks him to play it, so he does. He gets the guitar and she sits next to him and he watches her as he plays. Bellamy prays that this is the rest of their beautiful, crazy life.


End file.
